


A Freezing Fire

by beeboba



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Child Abuse, Domestic Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Running Away
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-18 22:22:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29497239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beeboba/pseuds/beeboba
Summary: He doesn't know where he is, he doesn't know where he's going, he just knows he couldn't return home. The words his dad said weren't some empty threat, he could see the pure hatred in his eyes when he spoke. "I'll kill you." It was a dreadful promise.Or,Tommy gets kicked out and Wilbur helps with the damages.
Relationships: Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 12
Kudos: 246





	1. 1

Tommy knew from the moment he woke up that it wasn't going to be a good day. 

Whilst in the midst of his sleepy state, he could barely register the sound of yelling from downstairs. His eyelids are heavy from drowsiness and his mind is foggy having just been taken out of a deep sleep. He's immediately greeted with the familiar voices growing louder; their strident tones full of hostility and venom. He pushes his pillow over his head in a suffocating way, praying for them to stop talking. They were just so loud, he could hear almost every word they were saying despite blocking his ears, and he wished he didn't absorb any of what they said. Vibrations spread throughout the house from a door slammed shut, and Tommy can't help but let out a sigh of relief knowing that his father had finally left to go to work. There's the distant thought on how he should probably check and make sure his mum's okay but selfishness seeps through his bones upon realizing just how exhausted he was. She'll be fine, he tries to convince himself as he settles back into sleep. He shuts his eyes and wishes for a peaceful sleep, wishes he would wake up in a better way. With one ear rested on his pillow and eyes shutting out the rest of the world, he could pretend to not hear his mum sobbing from downstairs.

When he woke up a second time, he was full of a newfound determination. Call it spite, but he wasn't about to let something ruin his day before it even began. He wasn't tired anymore, it was going to be a good day. No matter how many times he told himself this, he couldn't shake the feeling of something being terribly wrong. Anxiety claws at his core making him gnaw at his knuckles and pick at the skin by his nails. He sits at his desk, typing out a message asking if Tubbo wanted to stream with him. He knows it'd be a feeble attempt in taking his mind off of things, but he sends the message anyways. That the dull ache in his chest wouldn't ebb out from just a single call, that the restless he feels wouldn't dim. Though, he's always found comfort in the presence of his friends. He figures it couldn't hurt. Distractions never hurt. 

He pushes past the worry of not being well enough to stream when Tubbo replies to him. He'll be fine for one stream. If he doesn't seem like himself, he could always blame it on being tired from a combination of college, editing and recording- which isn't technically a complete lie. In doing so he knows he might get a message from Wilbur telling him to take a break. He just hopes he isn't watching the stream.

It worked at first, Tommy quickly found himself getting lost in the routine he's grown so accustomed to. Sometimes, when he was on stream it felt like he was reading off a script. It was easy to feel like that when everything fell just right into place, it's the familiarity of it all that makes it worth it for him. It was nice being able to sit back and talk to his friend. The peace never lasts as long as he wants it to, though. Hours full of laughter and playing Minecraft go by and Tommy has to end his stream. It's a painful reality, he realizes, once the same anxiety finds its way through him. The sound of a door opening roughly eliminates any sort of calm that Tommy had left from the stream. He had held loosely onto the hope that maybe he'd be in a better mood when he returned from work but it was crushed once he heard his venomous voice from downstairs. He turns up the volume on the song he's listening to, wishing for it to drown out their voices. He can't seem to focus on the lyrics, the words start to morph into one and he has to close his eyes, suddenly feeling dizzy. His only way of telling how much time had passed was the rising volume of his parents' voices, they fought their way in through his headphones, blaring louder than his music. He turns his phone off knowing he wouldn't be able to focus on the song anyways. Vibrations of hostile words ricocheted off the walls and he lays numb to it all, he's used to it. Tommy sits up once he hears glass shatter, his phone lays abandoned on his bed when he creeps to the top of the staircase to hear better. Dread pools in the pit of his stomach. When he holds his breath, he could hear a soft pleading followed by shouting. 

Tommy rushed down the stairs before he could even register what he was doing. He’s met instantly with the sight of his mum sitting softly crying on the couch, her hands were cradling her face. He could feel the beginnings of anger simmering inside of him. He felt it in the tips of his fingers when he pulled his shoes on. He felt it burning his legs, he could almost feel the heat as he walked into the kitchen to see his dad. It's the sound of Tommy crunching the glass beneath his shoes that alerts his dad, he turns around to face him holding a half-empty bottle. He knows that he shouldn't be here right now, he should be sitting in the living room comforting his mum. It's a routine that he hated he had, it's something he knows he shouldn't have to do as often as he does. 

"Toms," his dad says, his voice sickeningly even given the situation. He cringed at the use of his nickname, it's not his to use. He could feel the anger build up from over the years and bubble over.

"What the fuck is wrong with you." The words fall out of his mouth before he realizes what he's doing. His dad looks taken aback at first before his gaze hardens, a dark look in his eyes. Tommy tries to not feel scared.

"I would watch your mouth." His dad warns, words slurred in drunkenness. 

"Or what?" he tries to find strength in his voice. "What are you going to do?" He could see his dad clench his jaw, setting his beer down onto the counter. He takes two heavy steps forward and lands a blow onto Tommy before he could register what's happening. His chest hurts and he takes a step backwards to steady himself. In any other circumstance Tommy would've just taken it and dealt with the damage later, he's convinced himself it was easier that way. This wasn't like any other day, Tommy reminds himself. There's the fire that stirs inside him, a certain rage that has overflowed from all the years of pushing it down and waiting for things to change. A grim thought enters his brain once his head starts throbbing. Things will never change. He finds strength in his clenched fist when it connects with his face. He can feel himself shake as he watches his dad stumble backwards. Tommy was never exactly strong, so the satisfaction in making his dad finally hurt had engulfed him completely. He could feel the fire in his hand when he reached to hit him again. Adrenaline, a small part of his brain provides. His dad reaches for the counter. Tommy could hear the crack before he felt it. Immediately, pain blooms from where his head had been hit with a bottle. Glass shards fall to the ground and Tommy reaches to cradle his wound, suddenly feeling sick once he feels the blood flowing out onto his hand. 

He looks down to where his dad is sitting on the floor, his face bruised and his nose bleeding. Did he do that? It's a question that creeps into Tommy's mind. His dad's eyes look blank, uncaring, almost as if this was a normal everyday occurrence. He wants to kick the look off his face. He wants him to care. He raises his fist only to have his mum hold him back, pleading for him to just stop. He knows he could push past her if he wanted to, but he felt that he'd done enough- the satisfaction was replaced with a guilt he knew he shouldn't be feeling. He turns away, starting to walk to the bathroom to get some pain medication when his dad's voice fills his ears. 

"You're out of this house." 

Tommy's blood runs cold, he turns back around to face him. 

"You can't-" His mum starts, her voice rising with panic but he cuts her off, eyes locking into Tommy's. 

"You're out of this house." He repeats, tone flat and face holding no expression. A certain fear Tommy had been all too familiar with floods his body. 

"W-what?" Tommy curses himself for having his voice shake. He needed to be strong for once. "I don't have anywhere else to go," he feels gross for having to plead to him. 

"I don't care," he says, a sickening smile twitches on the edges of his mouth. 

"Dad-" Tommy tries to start again, voice riddled with something akin to desperation. 

Tommy watches as he stands to tower over him. "I'll kill you if you even try to come back," he says leaning in close enough that Tommy can smell the alcohol on his breath. 

It's all Tommy needs to run to get some of his belongings before bolting out the door. As soon as he walks out the door he's met with a cold gust of wind. Distantly, he wishes he had taken the time to grab a coat but he's not focused on that. The only thought that stays in his mind is how he needs to find somewhere to at least stay for the night. The adrenaline he once felt had ebbed away and he was left with a nasty realization paired with being at the mercy of the elements. Tommy had nowhere to go. He had finally fucked up badly enough to be stripped of any comforts he found in his home- if he could even call it that. The fire he felt had dwindled down to a small flame and it was so unbelievably cold. But he wanted this, didn't he? He's always dreamed about one day escaping that house and being free but now that he finally had it he didn't know what to do. 

He supposes it's better than them pretending things were normal. The roads were empty, streetlights were just beginning to flicker on and Tommy picked up the pace upon feeling how the snow soaked into his shoes. He doesn't know where he is, he doesn't know where he's going, he just knows he couldn't return home. The words his dad said weren't some empty threat, he could see the pure hatred in his eyes when he spoke. "I'll kill you." It was a dreadful promise. Tommy shudders at the thought and his eyes sting from the tears he's trying his best to force down. He's grateful that he could blame it on the piercing wind that whipped around him. Not that there was anyone around to ask, there was no one out here that would save him.

He stops and unlocks his phone, grimacing once seeing that it only had ten percent left, and goes to Discord, seeing that he had a few unanswered messages from Tubbo. He reads them without absorbing any of what he said, his head felt too fuzzy. He aches for the ability to just go to Tubbo for help but he knows that he can't. Not only was it too far of a distance for Tommy to walk, he just feels as if he just won't understand. Tubbo's always been blessed with a decently normal family, which is something that Tommy envied about him. He's always had such a wholesome view on family and Tommy would hate to be the one to shatter that image for him. It just wouldn't be fair. He closes out of their messages without typing out a reply before he numbly looks at his other contacts, eyes resting on one in particular. He can barely feel his fingers when he looks through his and Wilbur's messages. His eyes are wet and he lets out a dry laugh at just how normal they were. It only took one day for his entire life to change. He hits the call button before registering what that meant. 

What was he doing? He ends the call before the third ring, praying that he didn't wake the older man. It was too late for him to be bothering him anyways. His lungs felt heavy in his chest when he breathed. He briefly wonders just how long he had been outside. He'd traveled far enough to where he didn't recognize his surroundings, but maybe that was because it was dark. Maybe he should sit down. He could only feel the tiredness when he sat down, it wrapped around him like a blanket. He could feel his head ache when he laid down, he was only really grateful that the bleeding had finally stopped. The snow seeped into the fabric of his shirt, leaving him much colder than before but he ignored it. He closed his eyes, feeling a few stray tears slide down his cheeks. The exhaustion overwhelmed every single sense he had left.

He just hopes someone will find him.


	2. 2

Wilbur knew something was wrong the moment he clicked onto Tommy's stream. 

He watched with heavy lidded eyes and aching muscles from having just woken up late. He figured the stream would be a good background noise for editing a video he wanted to get out today- his normal editor was on vacation and he didn't want to overwhelm her with piled up work when she came back. He opens the program reluctantly, boredom already seeping into his brain as he watches through the video and cuts out any unnecessary footage. 

It's not hard for him to become distracted, he realized after going back onto Tommy's stream. His editing program closed and left abandoned for a future Wilbur to sort out. Though, it isn't completely his fault. It's just that Tommy had been acting so _off._ He'd seen it the moment he tabbed onto his stream- Tommy seemed so different. It felt weird watching him live without the full force of his stream persona, but he brushed it off in favor of trying to edit. The more he watched, the more strange everything felt. Maybe it was the two coffees he had making him more anxious but he couldn't help but feel that something was wrong. He seemed distracted, Wilbur listened to him asking Tubbo to repeat what he said on multiple occasions throughout the stream. He watched as Tommy's eyes kept darting away to check something, a spaced look in his eyes when he returned. He was quieter than usual, and Wilbur couldn't help but cringe when he'd notice and try to be loud again, his voice sounded especially strained that day. The jokes fell flat; it all felt forced. Wilbur could almost _feel_ the exhaustion radiating off of him when he hastily tried to end his stream, so he figured that's all it was. Tommy was just tired. Wilbur tried to convince himself. He tried to ignore the prolonged feeling of dread he felt. He was only overthinking things again, he had to be. 

The concern festers when Tommy didn't answer the group call they'd been planning. It's not unlike him to leave a call unanswered when something came up, but he'd rarely done so without an explanation. Even if the younger would never admit it, he'd never pass up on an opportunity to hang out with all of them at once. Wilbur found it endearing for the same reasons why him  _ not  _ joining was worrying. It had to be for a good reason, maybe Tommy just needed a day to himself- he'd hate for Tommy to have to act like his normal self for the sake of everyone else. Surely Tommy would tell him if anything was genuinely wrong. With that, he promises to give him space and message him in the morning if he is still unresponsive, and he joins the call. 

The absence of one boisterous blond is painfully apparent. There's silence where a joke would be made, a pause where Tommy would come in. Conversation flowed normally though, the others were discussing some upcoming projects they had along with plotlines they were considering, under any other circumstance Wilbur would have been happy to contribute and talk to them but an eerie amount of silence on his end. There's a lull in the conversation and Wilbur takes the opportunity to talk about what's been bothering him. 

"Have you guys noticed Tommy's been acting weird today?" His voice fills the call for the first time in almost ten minutes. 

An uncomfortable amount of silence instantly floods the call as he waits for a response. They didn't have their cameras on, but Wilbur could guess the expression they were making. 

It's Phil that speaks up first. "I haven't, no. What makes you say that?" Neither his comforting tone or the words he spoke did anything to calm Wilbur's seemingly growing unrest. He gives a hum in thought before answering. 

"I don't know," and it's true. He doesn't exactly have anything he could point out without sounding paranoid. Maybe he is. The conversation shifts after no one says anything, the conversation returning to normal. Wilbur hardly contributes after that, just listening to his friends. A single thought keeps running through his head. 

_ What makes you say that?  _

  
  


What was Wilbur afraid of? 

\--- 

It's later that night and Wilbur finds himself scrolling through Reddit. The soft glow of his phone hurts his eyes from staring at it for too long. The sun had only just gone down but he could already feel the tiredness sink into his body. His phone feels too heavy to hold onto any longer so he sets it down, surrendering himself to sleep. He's almost unconscious when he hears the familiar sound of a Discord call ringing out from his phone. He fumbles around in the darkness and reaches for his phones. Through his confusion he could clearly see the notification.

**_Missed call from TommyInnit_ ** __

The call was over before Wilbur could answer. The sudden anxiety he felt was awfully sobering of his sleep. He tries calling him back only for it to go unanswered. Had it been any other day, Wilbur would probably go back to sleep and ask him about it in the morning. Though, that paired with every other thing Wilbur had been worried about made him want to do anything but that. He unlocks his phone and opens up Google Maps. He usually gives his location to most of his friends in case something had ever happened to him. It was Tommy's mum who had given Wilbur his, she told him it was if anything ever happened when they were at work or away from home. He never thought he'd ever have to use it, and although he hardly had any evidence to base this on, he felt like he needed to at least check. He sits up in his bed staring at his screen, through a still buzzing mind he could make out the dot indicating his location. Dread pools in the pit of Wilbur's stomach. Tommy was currently on the edge of a thick forest far enough away from his home. Wilbur remembers an offhand comment about how it's a particularly sketchy area. He watches the dot, watches as it doesn't move. It's far too late for him to be out, especially when he was supposed to have college tomorrow. Wilbur remembered earlier that day when he went outside, and how the bitter winds bit at him even through his coat. He can't imagine how much the cold had progressed now that it was night, the thought scared him enough to stumble out of bed and pull on a thick winter coat- one thought clear in his mind. He had to find Tommy. 

The low rumble of his car is hardly enough to ground him. The soft voice of his GPS was the only thing he could properly focus on. He didn't even remember getting into the car, nor did he remember putting in a location to go to but he found himself almost ten minutes away from his house already. He was driving recklessly- he knew that much at least. He didn't even know _why_ he was driving to him- it would make so much sense for him to be overthinking, for him to be wrong. He almost wanted to be wrong about everything, to wallow in his own embarrassment from worrying a little _too_ much over Tommy would be better than something actually being wrong. He had a sickening feeling that he was right before he parked his car. He opens the door and steps out, an immediate sense of cold rushing over him. 

"Tommy?" Wilbur called out, his voice cutting against the sound of whipping wind. 

Any chance of Wilbur being wrong was gone when he didn't get a response. It was almost sinister how lifeless it was- not even a whisper of a reply could be heard. Heavy storm clouds shadowed the Earth beneath him, he had to pull out his phone flashlight to see ahead of him. 

"Tommy?" he tries again, voice heightened. Snow crunches under his boots as he walks forward. He almost turns back in favor of calling someone when his flashlight catches onto the sight of red peeking out through a thin layer of snow. His heart drops once he gets closer. 

"Tommy," he breathes out, leaning down to reach for him. His hands were shaking, he noted distantly, as he cleared off the snow covering his face. In front of him lies a boy with blue fingers and dark bruises on his head masked behind dried blood. He  _ knows  _ that right now he's looking at Tommy, but he didn't want that to be true. He'd never seen him so  _ hurt  _ before- it felt so unnerving to see him like this. Wilbur's hands feel heavy when he reaches for Tommy's neck, relief rushed through him once he felt a pulse. Tommy was alive. "What happened to you?" he whispers to himself, something akin to disbelief ghosting his words. Wilbur knew that someone did this to him but he couldn't even bring himself to imagine why someone would do such a thing. Who could ever do this to him? He struggles to pick Tommy up from the ground, a darkened sense of wanting to protect him rushing over him. He just wanted him to be safe. 

Tommy doesn't wake up. At least, not when he carries him to the car and starts driving. The steady breathing pattern of the younger was the only thing keeping Wilbur from crying. He tries his best to keep focused on the roads- the last thing either of them needed was to get into a crash. Wilbur was just lucky the streets weren't icy, he wasn't sure if he'd be able to drive with that.  _ What if he didn't find him?  _ The thought circles through his mind and suddenly the streets are blurry. It would have been  _ so  _ easy for him to just have gone back to sleep and ignore Tommy's call. If he had went to bed any earlier, he probably would've slept through the ringing. The thought of Tommy being left outside for who knows how long horrifies him. The storm showed no sign of stopping anytime soon. Tommy probably could have died. Wilbur pulls over on the side of the road, suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. He wants so desperately to call Phil or even Niki but he knows he can't. He'd have to explain what's gotten him so worked up and he doesn't want to do that to Tommy- he knows how much he hates being seen as weak and he probably doesn't even want Wilbur seeing him like this. Wilbur dully looks over his contacts, wishing he could just have someone tell him Tommy would be okay when his eyes rest upon one in particular. It's Tommy's dad's number- something he was given when they met up so they could communicate. He immediately calls the number and lets it ring. He figured it'd be a good place to start. 

  
Wilbur can't help but look back at Tommy where he was laid down across the entire backseat when the phone was ringing. A sudden pang in his chest causes him to look away and back at his phone. The call goes to voicemail, which confuses Wilbur. Surely, if they knew Tommy was out and wasn't back hours later without a response they'd be worried, right? If it were him, he'd be freaking out- much like how he is right about now. He calls the number again, holding the phone to his ear only for it to go to voicemail again. Did they even know Tommy was out tonight? He calls for a final time and it instantly goes to voicemail. Did they even care? He takes his car out of park, suddenly changing the direction he'd been driving in before. Wilbur could feel the start of anger simmer inside of him. He knows it's probably wrong for him to be mad at Tommy's parents for not being there- especially since they were probably asleep- but he couldn't help it. He gets an unsettling feeling that it's not the first time Tommy had to be alone for something like this. The car rolls to a slow stop, Wilbur looks to the backseat again. He almost doesn't want to wake him. He didn't want to disturb the peaceful state he was in. His hand reaches for his shoulder to try and shake him awake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for rlly late update!! my power went out and deleted about 2k words of ideas and drafting so my motivation kinda left for a bit ahaha- also I changed the outline so the third and final chapter is the one with actual comfort ahh sorry for lying haha


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